Home, But Not Alone
by LongDragon
Summary: And barefoot was how she arrived at Danny's door. She didn't knock though.


Summary: Lindsay returns from Montana and finds herself at Danny's door.

Rating: K

Category: Romance/Angst

Pairing: DannyLindsay

Disclaimer: I snuck in and played on CBS's playground – don't sue me.

Timeline: Season 3, Lindsay's return from Montana

Spoilers: Silent Night and The Lying Game.

Dedicated to da capt'n, my beta and inspiration. im conversations are amazing.

* * *

Lindsay cursed the weather as she ran, dripping wet and in heels, from the taxi to Danny's apartment building. To say it was raining was putting it lightly – ten feet should not have been enough to get her soaked.

Shifting nervously from foot to foot as she waited for the elevator, she glanced around. For a CSI's salary, it wasn't a bad building. No doorman, but a friendly looking old lady sitting in the office.

"Sorry – elevator doesn't get fixed until tomorrow."

Lindsay attempted to swallow her frustration. "Great," she sighed quietly. "Could you tell me which floor Danny Messer lives on?" she asked a little louder.

The landlady gave her an odd look, but apparently felt sorry for the other woman's state of dress. "Sixth floor, number 11."

"Thanks," Lindsay said, and entered the stairwell. Nearly tripping after only one flight, she pulled her shoes off and walked the rest of the way barefoot.

* * *

And barefoot was how she arrived at Danny's door. She didn't knock though. Her brain decided at that moment to drop a bucketful of doubts in her lap, and her hand froze midway to the wood. Did he get her note at all? Did he read it? What if she was too late? What if…

Her brain didn't have time to contemplate any more what ifs, because her fist apparently had a mind of its own and it hit the door.

"Whosere?" came a voice, the Staten Island accent further thickened by sleep.

Lindsay wasn't entirely sure if she'd been trying to say "Monroe" or "Montana" or even "Me" but all that got out of her mouth before her voice stopped working altogether was "Moo".

Silence emanated from the apartment for a moment, and then she heard footsteps approach the door. The chain slid out of its slot, and the door swung open halfway to reveal Danny resting his arm on the wood above his head. Dressed in sweats and his standard white tank, he still looked semi-sleepy but also rather amused.

"'Moo', Montana?"

Lindsay's voice had apparently decided to take a prolonged vacation, because she still didn't know where it was. Danny didn't take his eyes off her, but opened the door all the way and stepped back.

"Get in here, you're soaked."

"No kidding," he gave a half smile at that and she walked in. Danny reached behind her to close the door, then turned and walked off.

"Don' move, alright?" he called over his shoulder. Lindsay stood, awkwardly shuffling her feet again, before she realized she was still barefoot. Bending down, she set her shoes on the floor.

Danny came back around the corner carrying a big towel and a stack of clothes. Holding them out to her he said, "I ain't havin' Mac on my case 'cause I let ya catch a cold. Bedroom n' bathroom are down the hall."

* * *

Having taken the liberty of stealing Danny's shower, Lindsay picked up the clothes he had given her: a big Yankee's t-shirt and a faded pair of NYPD sweatpants. A smile crept up her face as she slipped into them; they smelled like Danny. Wandering out into the living room, she found Danny carrying a pizza box and a couple of empty beer bottles into the kitchen.

"Lonely night?" she asked, almost teasing.

"Flack had a date, nobody else around to spend it with," he called back. Taken slightly aback, she waited until he came and motioned for her to sit on the couch.

"So you show up at my place, soakin' wet, barefoot," she blushed and he smiled. "What's goin' on, Montana?" he asked quietly, prompting Lindsay to find her hands very interesting. She felt Danny shift closer on the couch, and then his arms were around her.

Something inside her broke, and she sobbed into his shoulder. She knew he was whispering and talking to her, but she couldn't comprehend the words. All the frustration and fear that had built up behind her wall of strength over the last few weeks came flooding out, and the only thing anchoring her down was the hands on her back and the stubble by her face. Contact with Danny felt good; it felt right, more right than anything in her life had been in a long time.

After a while the tears slowed, and Danny pulled back to look at her. He brushed her hair back, "so, Montana called, huh?" She laughed, but it came out closer to a choke. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I had to go back…to testify against the man who murdered my best friends ten years ago, and nearly murdered me." Danny just looked at her. Taking a deep breath, she kept going. She didn't have a clue how long they sat there: she pouring out her story and he listening. By the end, Danny had her firmly ensconced in his embrace and Lindsay found herself yawning.

"Tired?"

She nodded. "Can I stay here with you?"

Which one of them was more surprised about that question, she never did figure out. They had an argument over who got the bed, but Lindsay was too tired to fight very long and Danny took the couch. She had barely pulled the covers up around her before she lost consciousness.

* * *

Lindsay woke up and panicked at finding herself in the dark in a strange bed. Slowly she realized that she wasn't back in the nightmare of Montana, but at Danny's. Clambering out of bed, she padded down the hall to find the apartment's owner fast asleep on the couch.

After a moment's hesitation, Lindsay walked over and poked Danny in the shoulder.

"Huh?" he raised his head and looked blearily up at her.

"Move over," she whispered. Danny shifted onto his side and she curled up with her face in his neck.

"Somethin' else botherin' you?" he murmured into her hair.

"I don't want to be alone."

Danny pushed her back slightly and met her eyes, "You're not alone, Montana." She cuddled back into him and he gathered her into his arms. "You're not alone."

* * *

Reviews are loved – constructive criticism especially. I'd rather you didn't flame – any issues message me. Haven't published NYfic before – so feedback on how I did is a good thing. If you get the two references to Lindsay's note in Lying Game, good job. If not, check my LJ - the pic is there. 


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